


Can't Save Them All

by straightnotechaser



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Angst, Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-04-06
Updated: 2018-04-06
Packaged: 2019-04-19 02:04:30
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 8,815
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14226732
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/straightnotechaser/pseuds/straightnotechaser
Summary: James Potter has a perfect life, until some demons from his past appear and turn everything upside down.





	Can't Save Them All

“You could do a scope of Knockturn Alley,” Reginald said to James Potter in their office in the Department of Magical Law Enforcement. “That’s what I usually do when I don’t want to do paperwork. Unofficial, you know, but it’s sort of fun to watch everyone run and lock up the shops.”

James swung his legs off of his desk. “Sounds perfect,” he said, standing, his Auror robes billowing around his legs. “See you, Reg,” he said over his shoulder.

When James appeared in Knockturn Alley it was in street clothes, because he, unlike Reginald, was not an idiot. Harry Potter had made sure of that when he’d given James the job. James was ever-determined to make his father proud of him, and tried to not fuck up basic tasks.

He strolled down the dark and dingy lane, one of the few remaining hideouts for practitioners of the Dark Arts. There were, of course, dozens of illegal activities that happened here, and James could probably arrest just about anyone on the street under suspicion of something or other, but that wasn’t really why he was here. He was, really, just procrastinating, though he knew it certainly didn’t hurt to have a more familiar knowledge of this place in case he needed it in the future.

“James,” someone said to him, and he stopped in his tracks. A slender, blond man was staring coldly at him.

“Scorpius,” James breathed. Draco Malfoy’s son. Reported missing. A case James’ father had been working on for years now. Standing in the street, looking just fine.

“What are you doing here?” Scorpius said flatly. People in the street were acting even more nervous than usual, clearing away from the two young men quickly. James shoved his hands into his pockets, fingering his wand.

“Walking, didn’t think it was a crime,” James said.

“Put your wand down, James,” Scorpius said. James let go of his wand, startled. “You don’t belong here. Leave.”

“I was under the impression this is a public street,” James said shortly.

“Yeah, but you’re an Auror, and no one here takes particularly kindly to that.” Indeed, most everyone who had been milling through the streets had vanished. Shop signs suddenly said closed. Even the White Wyvern looked deserted, and James knew for a fact it was always busy. There was a crackling feeling in the air, and all of James’ training told him that he was in danger. But he was looking at Scorpius Malfoy, and in all the time James had known the younger man, there wasn’t anything dangerous about him.

“I’m not here on work business,” James said. “Just looking.”

“Leave, James.” Scorpius said again, crossing his arms.

“You know, my dad’s been looking for you,” James said. “Your dad’s been looking for you.”

It felt like even the air stopped moving. James chose to ignore it.

“What are you going to do, drag me home?” Scorpius drawled.

“I told you, I’m not here for work,” James said, trying to get Scorpius to trust him again. It did not seem like it was working.

“You can’t save them all, James Potter,” Scorpius spat, turning on his heel.

“Others will be back for you, you know,” James called after Scorpius’ receding figure. He blinked, and Scorpius was gone. James swore. He probably should have tried harder to hold him, but there was too much history thick between them. He couldn’t do it.

He’d have to come back, and he couldn’t tell his father about this.

~*~

That evening was family dinner, and it was easy for James to forget about his trip to Knockturn Alley when he was home. His mother was happily chatting away with his girlfriend, Bridget. Lily was over the moon to see him, Al was Al, and Harry looked beyond thrilled with his entire family.

Bridget turned and smiled at him, and he smiled back. She fit in so well. He’d gotten pretty lucky with her, really. She had a lot of patience. Al told her she was a saint at least three times a week, which always made Harry laugh.

When they had all finally sat down to eat, Bridget reached over and squeezed James’ thigh. He turned and winked at her, which made her laugh. It was bright, and tinkling, and James liked hearing it.

“Nothing exciting happening at the office, boys?” Ginny asked. Al worked in the Department of Mysteries, preferring a less glamorous role than the other two Potter men. He shrugged. He couldn’t tell them even if he would have wanted to.

“Absolutely nothing but papers going across my desk, mum,” James complained, “the boss is the worst.” He grinned broadly as Harry laughed.

“You should quit,” Lily said, and everyone at the table laughed some more.

“Anything new on your case, Harry?” Ginny said, resting a hand on her husband’s arm. Harry frowned, then, and James felt a pang of guilt.

“Nothing, hasn’t been in years.”

“How is he holding up?”

“About as well as you’d expect, is what I hear,” Lily chimed in. Lily worked as a Healer. Ginny’s lips pressed into a thin line, but she quickly changed the subject by asking Bridget about her work in the fashion industry.

“You did an excellent job on that last case, James,” Harry said across the table, his eyes twinkling. James’ knot of guilt left his stomach, then, and he settled in to the comfort of his family around him.

~*~

“Reg,” James said suddenly, back in the office trying to plow through his paperwork again.

“What?” Reginald said, looking up.

“You’ve been here for a while.”

“Yes, and?”

“Well, what can you tell me about the Malfoy case?”

Reginald frowned at James. “Why?”

“Curiosity. I went to school with Scorpius, you know. He was one of Al’s dorm mates.” James had tried pestering Al, but the only thing Al had told him that James did not know was that Scorpius’ mother had passed not long after the two had graduated from Hogwarts. Apparently Al had gone to the funeral. James felt pretty awful for not knowing this, but he’d been deep into his Auror training at the time.

“They were friends?” Reginald said, sounding incredulous.

“Not friends, dorm mates,” James repeated. “Still shook him a bit, y’know. Anyway, I was just wondering.”

Reginald shrugged. “I can tell you the basics. You know Scorpius is missing, I assume.”

“Right. His father reported it.”

“Yeah, but it took him almost a year and a half,” Reginald said. “Anyway, any leads we could have had were dead by then. None of his friends knew anything. All we’ve got are Scorpius’ rejected Ministry applications and not even a whisper of where he could have run off to. The house-elf is almost as useless as Draco. Your dad has a Healer checking in on Draco, and he goes once a week, and that’s about all I can share, James.”

“Rejected Ministry applications?” James asked, frowning. Scorpius had been a top student.

“Yeah, seems like there was concern he might not have the, erm, mental fortitude, immediately after losing his mum.”

“What happened to her?” James pressed.

“Merlin, James,” Reginald sighed. “A blood curse, one of the old ones, probably been in her family for ages. Just caught up with her finally. The Healers said it was lucky she lived as long as she did.”

James nodded. He had a lot more questions, but he knew he wasn’t going to get much farther with Reginald.

“Thanks, Reg.”

“Sure. Now stop asking me, or I have to tell your father, and I hate that shit, James.”

James laughed, but in his mind, he was making plans to go back to Knockturn Alley.

~*~

This time, James tried to be a bit more tactful. He headed straight into the White Wyvern, slipping into a seat at the bar as inconspicuously as possible. It didn’t really seem as though anyone had noticed him, they were all caught up in their own business.

A double Firewhiskey landed in front of him without him asking, on ice. He looked up. Scorpius was glowering at him, hand holding a bottle of Ogden’s with a pour spout.

“Something tells me you’re not the usual barkeep,” James said.

“I told you to leave,” Scorpius said simultaneously.

“That was a bit ago, now I’m back.” James said, trying to maintain eye contact.

“You’re making the clientele uncomfortable,” Scorpius said, cleaning a glass. Again, people were slowly shifting away from the two young men.

“Why are you here, Scorpius?”

Scorpius turned to look at James, his eyes piercing. “Why are you here, Mr. Potter?”

James winced. He didn’t like it when people called him that. He liked Scorpius doing it even less.

“You’re too smart to be a bartender,” he pointed out, instead. “Outstandings in almost every O.W.L., if memory serves.”

Scorpius did not look at all mollified by James’ memory. “This is home for people who don’t have other ones, Mr. Potter,” he said. He leaned on the counter, uncomfortably close to James. James could feel the static in the air again. “Frankly, I like all these misfits.” He sat up, then. “And I belong here. My family’s gold has kept some of these places in business for years. You, however, do not, and should leave.”

“Aren’t you worried?” James asked.

“What, that you’ll arrest me?” Scorpius snorted. “Please. You don’t have the balls.”

James stood abruptly. The atmosphere in the room shifted. Scorpius was gone again.

James swore loudly. There wasn’t even the crack of Apparition--how had Scorpius done that? Several people in the pub turned to look at him. Several more escaped out the door.

~*~

“Where are you going?” Bridget murmured, her hand reaching out to grab James’ arm as he sat up in bed.

“Work,” James replied evasively. He had thought she was asleep.

Bridget sat up. “I thought you didn’t have a case right now,” she said, sounding disappointed. James sighed.

“It’s complicated.”

“Jamie,” Bridget tried, and James sighed again. “Talk to me.”

“I can’t,” James said, turning to look at her. Bridget looked hurt.

“Okay,” she said, though James knew it wasn’t. He stood, and started pulling clothes on haphazardly.

“Will you talk to me?” Bridget asked as James grabbed his wand.

“I don’t know,” James replied, not turning to look at her. He Disapparated, reappearing in Knockturn Alley.

He stuffed his hands into his pockets, bracing against the chilly night air. The street was less bustling than normal, but some of the shops still had lights on. He felt a bit guilty for leaving Bridget like that, but he was certain it would be fine. She always forgave him.

Lost in thought, he hadn’t noticed a small, decently pretty witch approach him.

“Need some company?” she asked him, peering up at him behind long eyelashes. James didn’t have a chance to respond.

“Leave him, Isabella.” James looked up, not surprised, but slightly annoyed. Scorpius was standing in the shadows again.

The girl, Isabella, looked a bit put out, hands on her hips.

“Is he yours already, then?” she asked, sounding much less sweet than she had just a moment ago. Scorpius laughed. It sounded much hollower than James remembered it sounding.

“You want to go to Azkaban tonight, Bella? He’s an Auror.”

Bella, Isabella, whatever her name was, she was gone like lightning. James scowled.

“Sorry, did you come down here for a bit of fun?” Scorpius looked amused.

“Why, what’s your price?” James shot. He felt some pleasure at how incredibly offended Scorpius looked. It was the first real emotion he’d seen on the blonde in any of these interactions.

“Didn’t think I was your type.” Scorpius had recovered. His face was unreadable, half-hidden in shadow. James stepped closer.

“I think you know a lot about my type,” James said. He felt the air start to crackle again, and tried to ignore it. Again, he got the sense that Scorpius was dangerous, but he couldn’t--wouldn’t--believe it.

“Get away from me,” Scorpius said, and it sounded like a growl. He tried to Apparate, but James had grabbed him. He wasn’t prepared for the Side-Along, but he hung on for dear life as Scorpius desperately tried to throw him off. He caught a glimpse of the inside of what looked like a very nice home before they were off again, and suddenly but firmly inside a small, but well kept flat. Scorpius yanked himself free of James’ grasp.

“Where are we?” James asked immediately. “Where were we before? D’you live here?”

“Go away,” Scorpius said. “Leave me alone.”

“I can’t do that, Scorpius,” James said. The crackling feeling was back. Scorpius looked like he was struggling with something.

“Get. Out.” The blonde choked out. James stepped closer.

“I can bring you home,” James said, cautiously closing the space between them. Scorpius reached out, suddenly, and James was blasted across the room. He felt the blood blossoming into his clothing more than he felt the pain. He watched Scorpius disappear in what looked to be sloppy Apparition. James swore again.

While his sister patched him up at St. Mungos’ and his father looked at him disapprovingly, James felt worse than he had in a long time. His father had asked a lot of questions, none of which James had given satisfactory answers to.

“I’m putting you on the Malfoy case,” Harry said after a long silence. James turned to look at his father, confused. “It’ll keep you out of trouble for a bit, I hope. Maybe teach you something.”

James frowned, but nodded. Lily hit him on the back of the head when their father wasn’t looking.

~*~

“What are you doing, Jamie?” Bridget said. It was three in the morning. He rolled over.

“Trying to sleep.”

“That’s not what I meant.”

They were both silent for a long time. Seconds felt like hours.

“You’re being stupid, again,” Bridget said finally. “You got hurt.”

James turned to look at her. “I’m fine, though.”

“That’s not the point.”

Silence seemed so much worse when it was in the dark, and when he knew she was upset with him. James tried to wrap his arms around Bridget, but she pushed him away.

“What?” he asked, propping himself up on one forearm.

She looked at him. Her eyes, a clear, ice blue, were hard, reflecting what little light there was in the bedroom they shared. He got the sense that she was not mad about him getting hurt. She pushed some of her dark hair out of her face. It had been blonde, once, but she had dyed it. James had made the mistake of telling her that he hated it. He’d spent a lot of time apologizing for it.

“Do you want to be doing this?” Bridget asked him.

“What do you mean?” He knew what she meant. He was watching his life fall apart all over again, and he wasn’t going to do a damn thing to stop it.

“James,” Bridget sighed. He frowned. She almost always called him Jamie. “We haven’t had sex in almost a year. You were never particularly into it, anyway. Any chance you have to get buried in work, you take, and,” James reached out, as though touching her would stop the flow of her feelings. She pushed him away.

“I can’t do this anymore, James. I can’t keep pretending for you.”

He looked at her, and she looked at him. He swallowed.

“Okay.”

~*~

The following Monday James found himself alongside his father for his usual appointment at Malfoy Manor. It was a huge house, with sprawling gardens. It fit perfectly with James’ imagination of what the place would look like.

“You sure you’re alright?” Harry asked James, looking at his son. James smiled.

“Yeah, it’s fine,” he said. He knew his father was worried he was upset about Bridget. He knew he was supposed to be, and he felt guilty that he wasn’t. He was only worried his father might be disappointed. Harry had just been concerned. That made James feel even worse.

“Alright,” Harry said, and led James up the lane.

A small house-elf opened the front door when the two Potters had reached it. She curtsied deeply. “Mr. Potter and Mr. Potter,” she said, as though it was not at all a strange sentiment, “Master Draco is in the parlor.” She pulled the door open, gesturing them to come inside.

It was clean inside, but didn’t look like there was much life in the halls. Harry steered James directly into the parlor, which was a bit of a disappointment. He would have liked to explore.

Draco Malfoy was sitting in an armchair, staring out the window. He must have seen them coming up the lane, but didn’t turn to acknowledge them. He did not look as imposing as James remembered him from the Hogwarts Express platform all those years ago.

“Good afternoon, Draco,” Harry said, in a much gentler voice than James would have imagined him using. Draco turned then, smiling faintly. His grey eyes flicked to James, then back to Harry.

“It’s that time again, isn’t it,” Draco said. The house-elf came scurrying into the room, then, carrying a platter with three cups of tea. James and Harry both took one politely. The house-elf had to press Draco’s into his hands. It did not look like he planned to drink it.

“Yes, it is,” Harry said. “I take it you still have not heard from Scorpius?”

“No,” Draco said, turning back to the window. James felt his stomach drop.

Harry nodded, as though Draco were still part of the conversation. “Draco, this is my son, James, he’s going to be taking over the case for me. I think he’ll do a fine job.”

Draco made a vague noise of assent, though he didn’t turn to look at either of them.

“It might do some good to have some young eyes on the case,” Harry pressed.

“I went to school with Scorpius,” James offered. Harry put a hand on his shoulder, squeezing. It sent a warm feeling rushing through James.

“Yes,” Draco said, though he was still facing the window. James could see his reflection in the pristine glass. “I know.” James felt all the warmth leave him again.

Harry gestured to James, indicating they would go now. He set his teacup down, and James followed suit.

“It’s nice to see you, Draco,” Harry offered. “I’ll stop by.”

Draco put up a hand, and James got the feeling that was all they were going to get from him. The house-elf showed them out.

“Is he always like that?” James asked, when he felt they were far enough away to be respectful. Harry turned to look at James.

“James, he’s lost everything,” Harry said seriously. “Sometimes he says more, sometimes he doesn’t. Frankly, I think it’s a miracle he’s still sane.” James nodded. “Make sure you read the whole case file, okay? And do try not to press Draco. I’m sure he knows more than he’s ever shared, but I imagine that it’s hard for him.” James nodded again.

He spent the whole night, and many other nights just like it, pouring over the case file.

Astoria Malfoy, Draco’s wife and Scorpius’ mother, had passed away in the summer of 2024, which was about eight years ago now. She had a blood curse, as Reginald had told James before. It did not appear to come as a shock to the family, though it had been hard on them. Scorpius had sent in his final applications to the Ministry later that year, and disappeared, presumably, sometime shortly afterward, though Draco did not seem to feel the need to report it until early 2026. Harry and the other Aurors had searched England rather diligently, and sent a description of Scorpius to other countries’ Ministries as well. Most of their leads had come up empty. In 2027, Harry arranged to have a Mind Healer visit Draco once a week.

None of this really helped James. He had more knowledge of Scorpius’ recent whereabouts than anyone else on the case had. Despite checking Knockturn Alley multiple times, he had not seen any sign of Scorpius since. He had tried going as himself, both in Auror robes and plainclothes, and in disguise. His best guess was that Scorpius knew James was on his case, now, though he couldn’t fathom how.

“Have the house-elf show you the house,” Harry had suggested. “Her name is Tilly. She won’t give you much, she’s still very loyal to Scorpius. If you can get an in with her somehow, I’m sure she knows something. I always got the feeling she wasn’t telling me everything.”

So James had taken his father’s advice, and indeed, Tilly struck him as suspicious. After his usual Monday meeting with Mr. Malfoy, in which they had sat in uncomfortable silence for five minutes, James asked Tilly to show him around.

“You know, just in case,” he said. Tilly bowed deeply. “Your father asked the same,” she said, and diligently led James through what felt like a hundred rooms on the first floor alone.

She showed him the kitchen, family dining room, formal dining room, living room, drawing room and it’s attached cellar (“Master Draco does not like it in here,” Tilly had offered), two bathrooms, Draco’s office, and a screened-in porch. The last room Tilly pointed out on the first floor was what she called “Mistress Astoria’s office.”

James stopped, peering at the closed door with interest.

“We do not go in there,” Tilly said firmly. “Master Draco has forbidden it.”

“Did Scorpius like to go in there?” James inquired.

“It was forbidden,” Tilly repeated, frowning at James, “so no one goes in it. Except for that I is cleaning it, but only sometimes.”

James sighed.

The house-elf led him upstairs, pointing out many other rooms. One she defined as the master bedroom, but the door was closed. Tilly made no move to open it, as she had most of the downstairs rooms. The next door was described as “Master Draco’s bedroom,” and so James didn’t press about the master. He figured that the master bedroom, too, was forbidden.

She showed him another living area, a reception room, a lovely balcony, a library, and six guest bedrooms. James noted the distinct lack of a bedroom for Scorpius, and he was fairly sure there was a door Tilly had not named, but when he pressed her, she insisted that was all and ushered him back downstairs.

James got the distinct impression Tilly had been asked or made to not give away where Scorpius had gone. This was frustrating, but he knew he wasn’t going to get any farther today.

“Thanks, Tilly,” he said when they reached the main hall again. A quick glance in the parlor told James that Draco had likely not moved from his armchair.

Tilly bowed deeply. “We is will be seeing you next week?” she asked.

“Of course,” James replied, and the elf nodded before closing the door in his face.

~*~

It was about six months worth of painful, five-minute visits before James tried to get anything out of Tilly again. There had been no sign of Scorpius, though it wasn’t for lack of trying. James had re-opened lines of communication to the Ministries around the world, and had been fielding Floo calls of sightings of blond young men for weeks. None of them had been Scorpius.

James set his tea cup down. Tilly appeared immediately to take it from him.

“Nice to see you, Mr. Malfoy,” he said, standing. Draco turned to him, smiled slightly, then turned back to the window. James vaguely wondered if he ever moved. He followed Tilly into the hall.

“Tilly,” he said. She turned, still holding James’ teacup. “Does Mr. Malfoy ever leave the parlor?”

Tilly bowed deeply. “Sometimes, sir. He comes to the family dining room for supper most nights. Sometimes he retires to his room to nap. On Wednesdays he spends the day in his office doing work, sir. On Thursdays, the Healer comes. He is usually too tired to come down on Fridays.”

James processed that information. “Is he doing better, do you think?”

Tilly frowned. “Mr. Potter, can I is being very honest with you, sir?”

“Of course you can, Tilly.”

“I do not think so.” Her big eyes peered at James curiously. “I is thinking that Master Draco is pretending, sir.”

“To be okay?” James said. If all of this was an attempt at feigning normalcy, he thought Draco was doing a piss poor job of it.

“No,” Tilly said, “Pretending it never happened.”

“Explain,” James said, confused.

“Excepting when you are here,” Tilly said, “or the Healer, she makes him think about it. But all the other times, sir, I is thinking Master Draco is pretending there never was a Mistress Astoria or Master Scorpius.”

“Why?” James asked, taken aback. Tilly looked down, looking sad.

“Is easier, Mr. Potter, to pretend that you is never having something, than to deal with the losing of it.”

James felt like there was a grapefruit stuck in his throat. He nodded.

~*~

Time passed, slowly. Ginny stopped asking James about Bridget, or about if there were any other girls she should keep her eyes open for. James was getting more and more absorbed by the Malfoy case. Harry was getting worried, as a father, but tried to stay out of it as a boss.

James sat in his usual Monday meeting with Draco, finally understanding it was mostly to make sure the only remaining member of the Malfoy family was still there as the weeks went by. Draco was staring out the window, as usual, but his head was in his hands this time. James figured that was enough of an anomaly to try to press for useful conversation.

“Mr. Malfoy,” he started. He watched Draco’s cold grey eyes find his own in the reflection of the window. “Did you know your son was gay?”

Draco’s eyes closed, and then he turned slowly to look at James.

“I did,” he said after a long moment. His voice sounded as though it had not been used in a long time. James realized he hadn’t heard Draco say anything at all in several months. He watched Draco take a sip of his tea, the first James had ever seen him have. It was the most normal he had behaved in a long time.

“Was that… a point of contention between you?” James pressed, not wanting to lose this opportunity. Draco looked at him, and James felt very vulnerable, like Draco could read his mind. Harry had informed James that Draco was an Occlumens, but that certainly did not account for this feeling.

“Perhaps,” Draco said, “though I didn’t mean it to be.” He looked into his tea cup, then words started pouring from his lips. James leaned in, hanging on to all of them.

“Astoria, she wasn’t doing well. I think it was important to Scorpius that she knew, so he told her, then, while she was…” Draco looked towards the window again, but kept talking. “She told him that I was prepared to not have children, so certainly not having grandchildren wouldn’t matter.” The older man looked at the teacup in his hands. “I never got a chance to explain. She deteriorated so quickly. Everything happened so fast. I forgot about it. I shouldn’t have.”

“What did she mean?” James asked.

“Astoria… always knew she was sick.” Draco said. “She never let it stop her from doing anything. The Healers, they told us… carrying a child was not something she should attempt. But we both wanted it, so badly.” Draco looked up at James then, as though seeing him for the first time, really registering him as someone about his son’s age. His eyes started roaming around the room, looking anywhere but James. Tilly appeared in the doorway, looking nervous.

“She said it would be worth shaving the years off of her life to do it. So we had Scorpius anyway, and I…” Draco’s eyes were glistening. James looked away.

“He is the best thing I have ever done,” Draco said. “And he is gone now, because he thinks I did not want him at all.”

James understood suddenly why Draco had not reported his son missing. He thought it was his fault. The older man was crying in earnest. Tilly showed James out.

~*~

James spent the next few months trying to find Scorpius, to no avail. He wished he could find him, just to try to express even an ounce of what Draco was feeling.

He tried, for the hundredth time, the building the Healers had picked him up from after Scorpius had cursed him. It had been cleared, and the landlord had no recollection of Scorpius ever living there. James remembered Scorpius excelling at Charms, but there was no trace of any known memory charm on the landlord. It was infuriating.

He tried staking out Astoria’s grave for about a week, but the only person who showed was Draco, on a Saturday. It appeared he came every Saturday. He usually brought flowers and sat for some time. It made James’ heart ache to watch.

He tried Knockturn Alley again, even trying to corner Isabella late one evening, but she had no information of any use to James. According to her, she had not seen Scorpius since the night she’d propositioned James. She was also very adamant that she was not doing so again, which was fine with James.

He tried places he knew Scorpius might enjoy, like Flourish and Blotts, Quality Quidditch Supplies, Madam Malkin’s, various Quidditch matches, and Honeydukes, but found no sign of him.

It was only one day when he stayed late at work, pouring over his notes, that he thought he should write down in the case file the interactions he had had with Scorpius. As he was searching his memory for every important detail, he remembered their forced Side-Along, and the place they had gone first. The brief glimpse he had gotten reminded him strongly of what he knew of Malfoy Manor.

He sat upright in his chair, and started coming up with a plan.

~*~

It took about three months for the first part of James’ plan to fall into place, though he knew it was only a matter of waiting. Draco was not a man in good health, and he was tired frequently.

“Hello, Mr. Potter,” Tilly said, bowing deeply. “Master Draco has retreated for a nap, he is not awake yet.”

“Oh, that’s too bad,” James said. “He is only sleeping, you’re certain?”

“Very much so,” Tilly said, her large ears flapping as she nodded.

“Well, I’ll be back next week,” James said. His hand tightened on his wand in his pocket. Tilly curtsied and made to close the door.

“Stupefy!” James shouted. He winced as he heard Tilly hit the ground.

“I am so sorry,” he said to the unconscious elf. He scooped her up and set her on a couch in the parlor before going back to close the front door behind him. He knew he didn’t have all the time in the world, and who knows if Draco was actually sleeping or just didn’t feel like visitors today.

He started his search in Astoria’s office. It looked like it had not been used in a long time, though it was regularly cleaned as Tilly had said. Opening the drawers in the desk only turned up beautiful stationary for invitations and thank-you notes, a list of donors, and other things James assumed had to do with the charity work she had been known for. There was a family picture on her desk. All three Malfoys beamed up at James. Scorpius looked to be about sixteen in the picture. Draco looked happy. It twisted James’ insides.

Finding nothing of use, he took the stairs two at a time and began in the master bedroom. It looked just as untouched as Astoria’s office, though Draco or Tilly must have come in to clear out his things at some point.

There was still a lovely blue dress hanging next to what James’ assumed had been Astoria’s side of the bed. Perhaps she had been intending on wearing it and had set it out. Indeed, most everything in the room was Astoria’s. There was an airiness to the room the rest of the house lacked. James walked in, feeling like he was intruding. There were several pictures of Draco and Astoria throughout the room. Engagement pictures, wedding pictures, pictures of Astoria holding what James assumed was baby Scorpius. He rifled through drawers, looked in the bathroom, and the walk-in closets, but found nothing but more of Astoria’s things. Sitting on a dresser were what James assumed were her wedding rings. His heart broke a bit at the sight, and he left the room quickly. He had one more place to look.

The last door, the one he was certain Tilly had not shown him. He found it locked, but a quick Alohomora took care of that, and he opened it to find a room he was certain had not been touched in at least ten years.

It looked like eighteen year old Scorpius still lived there. There were Quidditch posters plastered on the wall. A Slytherin Quidditch kit had been carelessly thrown over the back of the desk chair. There was a cauldron and potion supplies strewn about. Scorpius’ half-unpacked Hogwarts trunk sat at the foot of the bed. A Prefect’s badge glistened at James from the top of Scorpius’ desk next to an empty box of Pumpkin Pasties. All of it felt nostalgic.

James steeled himself, and started to go through everything.

There was nothing useful in the trunk, closet, or dresser drawers. Lots of socks, old school uniform pieces, ties, and dress robes. James was not prepared for what he found in Scorpius’ desk.

The main, center drawer rewarded him with blank parchment, quills, and ink pots, most of which had dried up. As James continued to rummage, he eventually found a stack of letters. His heart sank. He couldn’t stop himself from reading at least the top one.

 

_Scor,_

_Your Christmas hols sound boring. I can’t believe you’ve read that many books already, you’re such a nerd._

_I wish you could come here, you could at least throw a Quaffle around with us. Hugo’s not great, but he tries really hard, and Lily would give you a run for your money. She’s going to be the best Chaser Gryffindor has ever seen._

_Nothing exciting happening over here, really, though, besides that. Al’s being insufferable as you can imagine and I still ended up with a huge pile of homework. What kind of holiday has homework?_

_Can’t wait to see you again soon. Just a few more weeks._

_All my love,_   
_James_

 

He felt his eyes fill with tears, and dropped the stack of letters immediately. He could not believe Scorpius had kept them, even if he hadn’t been in this room in ten years. It took him a moment to compose himself, and it was then that he realized there was another door in Scorpius’ room. His best guess was that it led to a bathroom, but he had to check.

It did, indeed, lead to a bathroom, which was not nearly as cluttered as the bedroom. It was large, having a massive bathtub that James would have killed for, clean, and didn’t have much sign of use. There was, however, another door on the other side of the bathroom.

He crossed the room in a few strides, then tried to open the other door. It was locked. James frowned, and tried Alohomora. That didn’t work, either.

Several dozen spells later and James had cracked the wards on the door in the bathroom. He was very concerned that Tilly had come to, by now, but if she had, she hadn’t come up here looking for James. He put his hand on the doorknob, and pushed.

The room he had revealed clearly aligned with his memory from the Side-Along incident. It was dark, but neat, smaller than Scorpius’ original bedroom but still spacious. There was a bed (made, and comfortable looking), desk, and a very annoyed looking eagle owl.

“Merle,” James breathed. The owl looked less than thrilled to see him. James supposed he didn’t blame her. He continued to look around. The remnants of a meal were sitting on the desk, perhaps from the evening before. He assumed Tilly had not gotten a chance to come up here and clean yet.

It did not look, however, like Scorpius was here now. There weren’t any clothes in the bedroom, though James checked everywhere, and it was unlikely Scorpius was wearing the clothes from his old bedroom. It seemed more like this was a stopping place than where Scorpius was spending most of his time, but he was definitely here, and Tilly was definitely hiding him. James could not imagine Draco faking his grief that well.

Tilly appeared, then, looking mad as hell. James did not blame her, either.

“Mr. Potter should not be in here,” she said shakily. James pointed his wand at her, and she squeaked.

“Where is he, Tilly?”

She pulled her ears over her eyes.

“Tilly, how could you be doing this to Mr. Malfoy?”

Tilly started to wail, then. “M-Master Draco never asks Tilly if sh-she has s-seen Master S-Scorpius,” Tilly said. James understood. Scorpius didn’t have her disobeying a direct order from Draco.

“Tilly, you have to tell me where he is,” James said. Tilly started banging her head into the wall, which James counted as progress.

“Can’t,” Tilly said eventually, “Don’t know. I is just feeding him and taking care of him when he comes, sir.” More banging. James thought about grabbing her to make her stop, but decided that would be counterproductive.

“Why does he come home? Just for food?” James asked, looking around for any more hints in the bedroom.

Tilly was pulling on her ears, now. “No,” she said. James could tell it was very difficult for her to be doing what she was doing. “Sometimes, he is hurt, and I is healing him. He is coming to see Master Draco, too, he comes usually when he is sleeping,” she said through gritted teeth. She grabbed a desk lamp and hit herself with it.

“To see if he’s okay?” James pressed.

Tilly looked dazed. “I is thinking Master Scorpius likes to know Master Draco is upset,” she said finally, blinking up at James. It did not seem that was a violation of anything Scorpius had told her not to share, as she stopped causing herself bodily harm. Still, Tilly’s revelation was not easy to take.

“He needs you to heal him? Tilly, is he okay?”

Tilly started hitting herself with the lamp again. James, unable to deal with it, grabbed it.

“Tilly, stop it,” he said firmly. She started to cry, large welts already appearing on her small head.

“Master Scorpius is n-n-not safe,” she bawled. “Very bad things is happening to his magic, Mr. Potter, and I is not able to be helping anymore.”

“What do you mean?” James demanded, but Tilly was crying too hard, shaking her head.

“I is going to go iron my hands for this,” she said, disappearing with a soft pop. James stood in the room for a long moment.

“Bad things happening to his magic?” he said out loud to no one in particular. Merle hooted.

~*~

James stood in his father’s office, feeling uncomfortable. Harry was flipping through all of James’ evidence, occasionally looking up at his son with an unreadable expression. After what felt like eons, Harry set all of the parchment down on his desk.

“So you don’t know where he is,” Harry said finally.

“Not a clue, other than that he comes home sometimes.”

“Probably not, now that Tilly knows that you know,” Harry said.

“You’re right,” James replied, shifting nervously. “Um, I’ll just, go then.”

“Why?” Harry asked.

“Well you’ve got to fire me, haven’t you, dad? I’ve broken about five laws, and--”

“James,” Harry sighed. “Sit down.”

James sat.

“If I followed the law all of my life, we wouldn’t all be sitting here right now,” he said plainly. “You did what you thought was best. I’m not going to fire you. We do need to talk, though.”

James swallowed. “Okay.”

“If what you say about the static in the air, and Scorpius’ abilities is true, and what Tilly is saying, then,” Harry ran a hand through his hair. “Scorpius is in a lot of danger. It sounds like he’s losing control of his magic.”

“Losing control of his magic?” James said, incredulous.

“Yes, James. Like when you were a kid and sent all the silverware flying everywhere at Al’s birthday party.”

“But Scorpius is… what, twenty-seven?”

Harry shook his head. “He’s trying to protect himself, and he’s letting the magic do what it wants without controlling it. It’s dangerous, and he has become too powerful a wizard to do that. It’s starting to control him, it sounds like, which puts him in grave danger.”

“Can he hurt himself?” James asked.

“Yes,” Harry said seriously, “and, if my suspicions are right, he’d be an excellent target for an Obscurus. We have to find him, James.”

“I don’t know where he is,” James said.

“We’ll put everyone on it. If an Obscurus finds him, if it hasn’t already, we might all well be doomed.” Harry sent his Patronus off into the office. The large silver stag made James feel a small amount of comfort as it brushed past him.

“We’ll go back to the Manor, first. We need to have Draco put it on lockdown, if Scorpius is angry, he could take it out there.”

Father and son Disapparated, reappearing on the grounds of the Manor. They were outside the gate for the first time in James’ experience. He realized it was because they were not expected. The gate pulled a terrible face at the two of them.

“Draco,” Harry called, “Please, it’s Harry, it’s important.”

The face vanished and the gate swung open. Harry and James ran up the lane. James did not know his father could still move so fast.

“Dad, wait,” James said. Harry stopped, looking frustrated.

“Now, James?” he said.

“Yes, it’s really important, actually, depending what happens,” James said, all at once.

“What?” Harry said.

“I’m gay,” James said. Harry stared at him.

“I don’t see how that’s important right this instant, but it certainly explains why you were not all that upset about Bridget. Now, hurry up.” Harry took off again, and it took James a moment to follow. That went so much better than it ever had in his mind.

Harry beat him to the door, where Draco was standing, looking concerned. Tilly had bandages on her fingers, and looked mortified to see both Harry and James.

Harry made short work of explaining what was going on to Draco, who had to sit down. Tilly, sobbing and hitting herself with the closest lamp, filled in the gaps.

“I is s-so s-s-sorry,” Tilly hiccuped, flinging herself at Draco’s feet.

“It’s not your fault, Tilly,” he said after a long silence.

“Draco, you can’t blame yourself,” Harry started.

“Bullshit, Potter,” Draco said, in the most venomous tone James had ever heard him use. He was standing, looking much more like the man from Uncle Ron’s stories than ever. “His mother’s dead, and he thinks I don’t give a shit about him enough to come make sure that I’m upset he’s gone!” Draco was shouting now. Harry had stood, as well, his arms out in a gesture of peace. James had never noticed how thin Mr. Malfoy was, but standing next to Harry, it was painfully obvious. His health was clearly in a steady decline. His eyes were sunken in, he had much less hair than someone his age should, and it looked like the energy he was expending right now might do him in. Tilly was running around underfoot, protesting, trying to get him to sit back down.

“Draco, he’s a grown man,” Harry said. He looked at James. “All our kids are. They make their own choices. They live their own lives. Scorpius has made a mistake. We can still save him.”

Draco had slowly sat back down and turned towards the window. His eyes glazed over. “You can’t save them all, Saint Potter,” he said, though the venom in his voice was gone. James heard Scorpius’ eerily similar voice echo in his head, thought of all those letters still stashed in a desk drawer, and felt a heavy guilt sink into his stomach.

“Put the wards on the house,” Harry said finally, sounding defeated. “Please, for your own safety.”

“This house,” Draco croaked, “will never shut out blood.”

~*~

Harry and James didn’t leave until they had stationed two Aurors inside the gates of the Manor and gotten a Healer on premises as well.

“A patronus if there’s any sign of Scorpius, or an Obscurus,” Harry was commanding, “but in Merlin’s name please take care of yourselves.”

As they left, James turned nervously to his father. “Why’d you tell them that?”

“Because Draco has given up,” Harry said through gritted teeth. “And to be frank, James, I think he’d rather die at his son’s hands than suffer in that house alone.”

James said nothing. The pair pressed on to the only place James had ever successfully found Scorpius--Knockturn Alley. It’s inhabitants fled faster than he’d ever seen at the sight of Harry Potter.

“Some help that’s going to be,” Harry grumbled.

“He might still be here,” James said, hopeful.

They searched every shop and side-street to no avail. One shopkeeper, a frail old Mr. Borgin, told Harry he hadn’t seen Scorpius in several months.

“Used to come keep me company,” he said nervously. “Liked some of the trinkets. Figured out how to curse-break a few. Bright lad, like his father.”

“Did you notice anything strange around him?” Harry demanded. “Like, a crackling sensation? Or did you get the feeling that maybe he was doing strange magic?”

Mr. Borgin looked thoughtful. “Now that you mention it, yeah. Sometimes things would get a little funny, especially if I told him how like his father he was.”

“Thank you,” Harry said. They hurried out of the shop.

Luckily, or perhaps not, they didn’t have to look any further for Scorpius Malfoy.

“James,” came his voice, ragged. James turned. Harry did as well, wand drawn. James put his arm out to stop his father.

Scorpius was standing at the end of the lane. His edges looked frayed, as though he wasn’t really there. He also looked irate; his hands were in fists, his black cloak whipping around even though the air was still.

“Scorpius,” James said gently.

“Don’t talk to me that way!” Scorpius shouted, and it echoed off of every wall as though amplified. James looked meaningfully at his father, and walked closer to Scorpius.

“James,” Harry said softly. James smiled hopefully. Harry, against his better judgement, let his son go.

“Scorpius, I’m not trying to upset you,” James said, hands out, wand still in his pocket.

“Then why are you still HERE?” Scorpius said, the last word piercing James’ eardrums so hard he thought they might bleed.

“To find you,” James said, “to help you.”

Several more Aurors appeared in the lane behind Scorpius. James knew there must be more behind him, as well. Scorpius did not appear to notice them, as he had not appeared to notice Harry. That frightened James more than anything else.

“Why?” Scorpius demanded. He looked like a broken radio connection. James thought that if he could touch him, maybe he could ground him. He stepped closer.

“Your father misses you terribly,” James started.

“LIAR!”

James watched the Aurors clap their hands over their ears. It was very difficult not to do the same. He felt like he was stuck in mud, and Scorpius was too far away.

“I’m not,” James said. “Really, he’s miserable, Scorpius.”

“He deserves it,” Scorpius spat, and it echoed a hundred times over. James had somehow gotten close enough that he thought if he just reached out, he could grab Scorpius, hang on for whatever Side-Along ride he got dragged on, but bring him down to Earth again.

“Scorpius,” James started, reaching out. Scorpius launched up, airborne, like a bird. A few of the Aurors drew their wands. James did not, but felt helpless as his hand closed on air.

“It isn’t your fault,” James tried.

Scorpius seemed larger than life. “Easy for you to say, your existence didn’t murder your mother,” he hissed, and it cut James like a knife.

“She loved you, Scorpius,” James said. “You know she did.”

“You don’t know anything about me,” Scorpius said. It seemed like all that was left of him was feelings, and all of them were angry. James just needed something real to hang on to, but he wasn’t sure there was anything left.

“I know plenty about you,” he protested. He was shouting now. All of the Aurors looked shocked, but James kept shouting. “I know you love flying, and Quidditch, and pumpkin pasties, and that your favorite season is winter because you get to wear all of your jumpers, and--”

“Shut up!” the Scorpius-thing was screaming, and all of the Aurors were covering their ears again. James thought he might be close. He reached up, trying so very hard to grasp hold of something, but Scorpius was too high, and floating higher.

“I loved you, Scorpius,” James breathed, and he was surrounded in fire. He heard Harry yell, but he didn’t know what.

“You didn’t,” Scorpius said, and though it still didn’t sound like him, James knew it was. His voice seemed disembodied, far away. “You loved yourself, and your family, and you weren’t about to let me ruin their opinion of you.”

James closed his mouth. It was the truth, and it hurt. “I was stupid,” he said. “I made a mistake.”

The Scorpius-thing was laughing, and James felt so hot from the flames. His ears were rushing. He was having a hard time breathing.

“Please come down, Scorpius,” James pleaded, gasping for air. “We can fix it. You can go home.”

“You can’t save me, James Potter,” Scorpius said. “No one can.” He was so high up now, and many of the Aurors were pointing their wands at him. He was growing, swelling, looking more and more like radio static with every passing moment. Suddenly, with the most terrible noise James had ever heard, he shattered, the pieces blowing past James’ face like a whirlwind.

The fires went out.

The air felt normal again.

James heard himself gasping for air. It tasted strange on his tongue.

Harry put his hand on James’ shoulder.

“He’s gone, isn’t he, dad?”

Harry nodded solemnly.

~*~

Draco said precious few words at the memorial ceremony. No one else felt right doing it. They had erected a symbolic headstone next to Astoria, though there was nothing to put in the ground. Draco looked worse than ever. James sat in his seat in the back, silently crying the entire time, with Harry’s hand on his shoulder.

As everyone started to leave, Harry left James to say a few words to Draco in private. James couldn’t imagine anything worthwhile to say to a man who had truly lost everything. He looked down and spotted Tilly, who looked about as miserable as he felt.

She looked up.

“Mr. Potter,” she said.

“Hi, Tilly,” James replied.

“Thanks for coming,” she said.

“Couldn’t miss it.” James smiled wryly.

“Thank you also for trying to help Master Scorpius,” she said.

“I wish I could have done more,” James choked. Tilly smiled at him.

“He is being free now,” she said. “No more pain.”

James collapsed on the floor, his whole body wracked with sobs. The few people left in the room turned to stare, unable to fathom why James Potter was so upset. Tilly patted him on the back.

“Come on, James,” Harry said. “Let’s go home.”

~*~

Draco didn’t last the month. James couldn’t bring himself to go to that service, though by all accounts, Harry gave an excellent speech.

There were three headstones in the graveyard, now. The whole family. It felt wrong to look at, but James went anyway.

The icy winter wind blew through his hair as he stood there. A few tears hit the frozen ground. He felt what was left of them freeze on his face.

Suddenly, he felt warm. He looked around, frantic. It sounded like the trees were laughing at him. A laugh he hadn’t heard in more than ten years.

He smiled.

**Author's Note:**

> Huge thanks to [bangringyring](https://archiveofourown.org/users/bangringyring/pseuds/bangringyring%22) for proof-reading this for me even though I told her I cried while I wrote it and blew one of them up.


End file.
